


Call Me Petyr

by Miss_Spectre



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 07:42:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13631769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Spectre/pseuds/Miss_Spectre
Summary: Starting at where 04x07 left off..Exploring the feelings of Sansa and Petyr.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Sometimes [Petyr] sees Sansa and she's the daughter he never had. The daughter he might have had with Cat if he and Cat had been married, as he dreamed when he was a small boy living in her father's castle and was so madly in love with her. But at other times, he detaches himself from that and he's less Petyr and he's more Littlefinger. And she's just another piece in the game of thrones, she's just another valuable piece he's going to use to get what he wants. And yet at other times she's not Catelyn's daughter, she's like young Cat. She's his teenage fantasy returned again. Then his feelings for her are sexual and romantic."
> 
> \- George R. R. Martin on Littlefinger's feelings for Sansa and Catelyn -

"In a better world, one where love can overcome strength and duty, you might've been my child. But we don't live in that world," lowering his sea blue eyes, his fingers softly picked up a strand of long, ginger hair.  
"You're more beautiful than she ever was," his voice had grown husky and the words hung in the cold winter air like tiny clouds. Sansa was sure that the cold air wasn't the reason for that husky voice of his, "Lord Bealish.."  
"Call me Petyr," his hands felt surprisingly warm on her cheeks that had cooled out from the time she'd spent outside, building her home that the little brat had just destroyed. But her thoughts were interrupted when soft lips touched hers. Sansa was surprised, not extremely, but still surprised. She had always seen him as the man that had fallen for her mother who never wanted his love.  
The man's lips felt soft and warm on hers and the tip of his tongue slid tenderly of hers, but Sansa didn't react. Lord Baelish's - Petyr's - lips felt better and more experienced on hers than Joffrey's when he'd kissed her back at King's Landing.

He could feel the girl's warm breath on his cheek. She felt good. So good.. Better than he had ever imagined. Well, he had always imagined what Cat's lips might feel like, but Sansa.. She was someone so different and during other moments so incredibly much like her mother. Littlefinger was disappointed, he had perhaps told the little dove too much. Out of a bunch of emotions that had overcome him when he saw her there, building Winterfell. The little dove, was she really as innocent as a dove? Could a girl from the north even be a dove?

The pulled away from each other, mesmerized, looking at the other one in silent wonder and awe.  
Both with a thousand questions in their minds.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every man has a place  
> In his heart there's a space  
> And the world can't erase his fantasies  
> 
> 
> \- Earth Wind And Fire/Fantasy -

It was silent in the castle. Utterly silent.  
The brat had been screaming like a wounded dog when he couldn't find his mommy anymore. Petyr had ordered that the boy got locked away into his chambers, with some bread, of course.

He couldn't sleep. It was too quiet in the big castle and the large bed felt strangely empty. He didn't grief for Lysa, that woman was mad and it was good that she was gone now. No, he had always missed one particularly woman by his side - Cat. "Given the opportunity, what do we do to those who hurt the ones we love?" had he really said that to her? To the little dove. She had looked like Cat, Cat who had the same long, auburn hair when they both had been younger. Sansa's was just a little lighter, a little more ginger in the winter sun. A deep sigh escaped the man's mouth. Her hair had felt comfortably soft in his fingers this afternoon. Petyr stared out of the window - the moon was shining brightly over the mountains that surrounded the castle. Somewhere in the night a wolf was howling.  
The little dove, she was shy. But in a way he was amazed by that. It was challenging. He wished for her to be his, his little dove. He had never desired any of the whores in his brothels. What an irony, but at the same time it was so him. It kept his enemies confused. Littlefinger, the owner of brothels who never had a woman. Was Sansa now the only one who knew that he had always loved Cat?  
Sansa, beautiful Sansa. He wanted to give her what he had never been able to give to Cat. All of his love.

Sansa was laying awake. Not like the other night when Lysa's screams could be heard all through the castle. Lysa would never again scream like this. She was now shattered into pieces. Wolves would come and eat her flesh. Sansa sighed, that weren't very ladylike thoughts. She ought to dream of princes and how it would be to be their wife, to be the princess. Perfect princes, with golden hair and eyes as blue as the Narrow Sea on a sunny day.  
Her thoughts faltered as she realized that this description matched Joffrey. The boy who had been immeasurably cruel to her - to everyone - a wicked king killed at his wedding. And what was left now? What could she dream of if the perfect prince was a cruel, merciless monster?  
With a slight pain her thoughts drifted to her husband, Tyrion, who was accused of Joffrey's murder. Poor Tyrion. She had never loved him - how could she? - but he had always treated her respectfully and he hadn't taken her maidenhead. She could have never imagined that Tyrion, the self declined 'god of tits and wine' would leave it to her decision when they would have sex.  
She shuddered at the sound of this word in her head. Shae had said that sex could be wonderful, fulfilling - if you knew how to guide the man. "It is harder to pleasure the woman, than the man," Shae had said, "but every man loves to see his woman pleasured."  
Sansa was unsure. Joffrey who seemed like the prince out of the tales she had listened to as a child, he had been so cruel. And Tyrion? She just couldn't imagine having him take her maidenhead, even if he was her husband now. Would she have to scream the way Aunt Lysa had screamed the other night? She couldn't ask Petyr what he'd done to make her scream like this.

Petyr - her heart twitched in low excitement. He was no prince with golden hair, but he was as respectful to her as Tyrion had always been and there was something about him. Perhaps that no one could figure out what his plans to get 'everything' were. That you never knew what he was all about.  
He had been so soft, yet it had shocked her. This sudden kiss. - How could he simply kiss her after rambling about the fact that if the world was different she would be his child? Sansa's brows furrowed in confusion.  
His lips had felt good, though. Warm and tender.  
Was he something she could hope for? Depend on? He had brought her away from Kings Landing, at least, and he never let anyone hurt her.  
Her father's words echoed in her mind, "Never trust anyone here in Kings Landing," but they weren't there anymore. Could she trust Littlefinger?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't have to turn my head whenever you walked in  
> The only one to let these chills roll down my skin  
> My heart beats faster, I hear your name  
> I feel my confidence slippin' away
> 
> \- George Strait/Wrapped -

Sansa sat in her room. Late autumn sun fell through the window and warmed her back.

'Just a peck on the cheek,' was that really what she'd told them? Petyr's eyes had been warm and thankful when she locked hers with them whilst embracing the woman that soothed her when she'd started crying again after she told how Lysa died. After she lied about Lysa's death - lied for him.  
It knocked on the wooden door, three times.  
"Yes?"

Petyr slowly walked into Sansa's chamber. The young woman sat on her bed and didn't look up but went on embroidering something, the fabric was stretched out all over her legs.  
He stopped walking and hesitated, thinking about what to say. "First time I saw you, you were just a child. Girl from the North come to the capitol for the first time," Petyr noticed how husky his voice was, "not a child any longer."  
She didn't reply, didn't even look at him. Was she angry that she had lied for him?

"Why did you help me?"

"They would've thrown you through the moon door if they'd found you guilty," Sansa head was still low, her eyes focused on the embroidery.

"That's not an answer," his voice was dark.

"They would've executed you or they would've done the same with me," she intertwined the needle with the fabric.

"I don't know."

"Neither do I."

"You'd rather take a gamble on the man you know than the stranger's you don't. And you think you know me?" a light grin crept up on Petyr's lips.

"I know what you want."

"Do you?"

Sansa looked up. Petyr's grey eyes were gleaming with desire as he walked slowly closer to the bed, reaching out a hand.  
"Come," his voice was dark and husky, his eyes shimmering silvery in the sunlight. Sansa laid the fabric and needle away. Her hands were trembling.  
She slowly stood up, standing only some feet away from Littlefinger now. The hand he'd reached out found her waist and pulled her softly closer. The fingers of his other hand tracing tenderly over her cheek.  
"What are you -"  
"Shhh," Petyr gingerly laid a finger on the soft lips of the young woman which were red like wine, "If you know what I want, would you give it - would you give ... yourself - to me?"  
His voice sounded almost hoarse now. He noticed Sansa's eyes widen for a short moment.  
Petyr stepped towards her, closing the gap that had still been between the two of them. With the hand on her waist he was squeezing her softly as he replaced the finger on Sansa's mouth with his lips, not leaving her any time to answer.  
Sansa's heart beat fast and her breath grew faster during the kiss. The man's lips felt good on hers, perfect even.  
His hands stroked over her back, opening her lavender dress. Never stopping the kiss his fingers found and untangled the strings the hold her corset together. The dress slipped down her lean body.  
"Lord Baelish.." Sansa broke the kiss, locking eyes with him.  
"Call me Petyr," his voice was dark but less husky. His eyes scanned her body, only concealed by the under gown she wore. When his eyes found hers again they sparkled with desire.  
Petyr kissed her neck, softly biting her and at the same time he let his hands wander down her body. He felt her shiver under his touch but at them same time she stepped closer to him, her hands wrapping around his neck. His fingers teasingly slid along the inside of her thighs, making her moan lowly. Petyr softly grabbed her at her hips and sat her down on the bed.

Sansa looked up to him, reached out her hands and opened the belt around his cloak. He helped her opening the cloak and let it fall to the ground carelessly, as he sat down on the bed as well. Taking her hands, he guided her to straddle him and sit on his lap. She could feel him being aroused, his erection pressing against his breeches. It made something inside her tingly with desire.

His hands found the hem of her under gown and slid beneath it, leaving her shivering with pleasure as he softly squeezed her ass. Sansa moaned, her hands opening the white shirt he was still wearing.  
Petyr pulled off the shirt over his head, revealing his slender figure and his chest delicately sprinkled with some silvery hair. He slid his right hand between his breeches and the woman's sex. Sansa moaned lowly as he began to stroke her tenderly.  
"But.. we shouldn't.." her eyes were anxious when she locked them with his again. She had to keep her maidenhead, hadn't she? Until marriage?  
"He'd never know," Petyr gasped, opening his breeches.  
Sansa felt overwhelmed by the feeling of his erection against her sex. She blinked and looked down. She had never seen a man, all naked, before and felt unsure of what to do. She knew that she wanted him - but how? What to do to please the man who ran a brothel, the man who'd made Lysa scream last week.  
Petyr locked eyes with her, laying on hand on her hip, lifting her up a bit, guiding himself into her with his other. Both of them moaned at the sensation of each other.  
"You feel good," he groaned into his ear, as he softly guided her moves with his hands still on her hips.  
Sansa gasped and moaned, it - he - felt unusual inside her, but damn great. She had never thought that sex could ever feel so good. But she was glad that he helped her move in the right way.  
Petyr grabbed her stronger and rolled her around on the bed so that he was upon her now. His eyes were darkened by desire and his breath washed warm over her skin. She laid her hands on his shoulders, pulled him closer and gave him a deep kiss, their tongues intertwining whilst his moves fastened. He moaned into the kiss, feeling that he was near cumming. She was so tight, better than anything he couldn't have imagined, better than Lysa ever had been and that was just the dove's first time. Another moan escaped his mouth at the thought of all the pleasures yet to come in the near future.  
Another moan followed and his hands grabbed her shoulders, squeezing them harshly when he came, moaning and panting, along with her.

She gasped, it felt good, this flood of overwhelming emotions, the satisfaction and release. Looking up she found Petyr's eyes closed, his lips agape, a deep moan escaping them. Joining in she felt him cum inside her, filling her.  
Petyr collapsed on her chest, his head laying on her left shoulder he kissed her neck. She tasted like salt and the faded scent of rose soap. Her hair was disheveled and spread all over the pillow like a red stain.

"Who would never know?" Sansa whispered turning her haed around, to look at Littlefinger. He furrowed his brows.  
"When I asked you if that was right, you answered me that he would never know. Who is he, Petyr?" her voice was still shaking.  
A surprised expression flashed over his face, she'd called him Petyr.

"Robin."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She's my lover baby and I love her so and   
> She's the one that really makes me whirl and twirl!   
> And she's the kind of lover that makes me me fill the whole world and   
> She's the one who really makes me jump and shout, ooh!   
> She's the kind of girl-I know what it's all about!
> 
> \- Led Zeppelin/The Grunge -

Littlefinger hadn't allowed Robin to invite all the dancers and fire breathers. But there was wine. Lots of wine red like crimson blood. Sansa reached out for a lemon pie. On her left said Robin and next to him Littlefinger.  
Lady of the Vale, a smile crept over his thin lips. Raising his glass he toasted in her direction, locking eyes with her, twinking and fastly looking away when Robin turned his head towards him.  
"Uncle, I want more wine!" the boy, Lord of the Vale, demanded. With an almost unoticaple movement of his hand Littlefinger commanded one of the servants to their table.  
"More wine for the Lord," he ordered, glancing at the boy. He was tipsy, if not even drunk yet.  
Sansa felt strange. The wedding Tyrion and her had had had been very different. Many people, the whole Lanniter clan watching every of their steps. She'd felt uncomfortable there.  
The ceremony of the cloaking hadn't been much different in the Vale. Just with the difference that everbody cheered and wished both of them the gods's best wills.

"Every wedding needs a bedding!" shouted suddenly one of the neighbors that had come.  
"Bedding! Bedding! Bedding!" the crowed immediately started yelling along with the man who'd started it. Alarmed Sansa threw a glance over to Littlefinger. His eyebrows were furrowed and he didn't look very pleased by the chanting crowd. He stood up, reaching out his arms and making a gesture to stop the crowd from chanting.  
"I think the young couple knows what the old ceremonies demand.. Let them go to their chambers!" he turned around, to catch one last glance of Sansa's raven hair when she and Robin walked through the door and towards Robin's chambers.

"You're my lady now?" the words that dripped over his lips were blurred by the alcohol the boy had drunk this evening.  
"Yes, I am," Sansa gave him a weak smile and closed the door behind them. Robin had already walked to the bed and hopped onto it.  
"C'me 'ere m'lady," his hand waved her closer and Sansa smiled seeing his eyes close shortly after he'd said the last word. Soon a low snoring was audible.  
The wine had made him fall asleep.

When everything in the castle had gotten silent, Sansa quietly stood up from the arm chair she'd been sitting in. With bare feet she walked slowly to the door, laying her hand on the cold door handle. It squeaked when she pushed it down, causing Robin to turn around murmuring in his sleep. The young woman could feel her heart beat sped up.  
The hallway was dark and the tiles felt cold under her feet. Moon light shone in through some small windows. But by now she wouldn't have needed it it. Sansa knew the way to her chambers by heart. Slowly she walked through the hallway, one stairway down, another one up until she finally reached her chamber.

"A young lady shouldn't creep through the castle by night," a well known voice whispered huskily.  
Sansa spun around. Littlefinger.  
"Did you follow me?" her voice was high though she was keeping it low. The man didn't answer but step closer to her. She was almost sure that he could feel her racing heart beat.  
"Open your door," he whispered, his eyes glooming.  
Sansa nodded, fumbled with trembling fingers the cold iron key out of her night gown's pocket and unlocked her door.  
They stepped into the room and Petyr locked it behind them. It was still a bit warm from the fire that had been left glooming in the chimney. He threw some more wood into it to get it burning again. When he turned around he found Sansa sitting on the bed. Silver moonlight caressing her raven her and her eyes glooming vividly in the darkness.

"Why did we have to do that?" she murmured, looking up to Petyr who'd stepped closer to her.  
"Do what?" he asked in a low voice.  
"Having me marry that brat," her fingers found his belt and opened it, "Why couldn't we marry?" The belt was open and her fingers caressed the rough but at the same time gently and velvety cotton fabric of his trousers. She could feel his erection grow beneath her hand stroking over the fabric.  
"You know why," Petyr let out a soft moan and inhaled deeply, "the boy has all the money. He is the rightful Lord of the Vale, to make you rightful Lady of the Vale you had to," he moaned again. Sansa had opened his trousers and slid a hand inside them.  
"I had to," she asked teasingly, a grin on her lips, her eyes locked with his. But Petyr didn't answer. Her hands ware caressing him and he was imbued by the feeling that washed through his nerves. Tingling and warm, taking away all his thoughts. The young lady smiled at him before she softly lowered her mouth and licked over the tip of his member.

She liked him to groan. It sounded manly, she thought. She went on teasing him with her tongue ever so lightly yet seducingly. In addition to that she pulled him closer with her left hand, taking him all inside her mouth. Littlefinger groaned. Looking up she found him with closed eyes and a relxed expression on his face. He loved what she was doing and both of them knew so.

With another groan he softly started to move, to thrust gently deeper into her mouth, a bit out again. Another thrust, deeper this time. His hands found her head and softly held her but still allowed Sansa to move a little back. She felt good, warm and soft, her tongue wandering over him, heightening his pleasure. Her rosy eyes were closed and her raven hair messed up. Her hand still clung to his legs and he moaned deeply.

She knew that it wouldn't take him much longer. And indeed Littlefinger soon groaned loudly, almost a scream, cuming. He tasted salty, a little bitter. Sansa swallowed, licked over him and softly let go of him again.

He loved her. Or at least he really, really enjoyed those encounters by night. Petyr, straightening his clothes, sat down next to her.  
"Let me think of something concerning the boy, alright? As long as he drinks like Robert did, you won't have to fear anything of that kid," Petyr's hand softly grabbed Sansa's chin, turning her head around to face his. Then he softly kissed her, his tongue licking over her warm and slightly swollen crimson lips.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything changes, doesn't it baby?  
> It's amazing how time flies  
> Turning the pages of yesterday  
> In only the blink of an eye  
> Everything changes, everything changes, everything  
> \- Little Big Town/Everything Changes -

It was afternoon and warm sun fell through the large window. Sansa sat in Robin's and also her chambers and read in a book with all the tales about the dragons and the Valyrians Littlefinger had given her before he had left the castle with Robin. Like every fourth day of the week, they were out in the woods, hunting.

However, it had been the first time that he had handed her a book before leaving.  
"Read while I'll be gone. It's about mysteries yet to be solved," he had said before leaving her alone in the chambers. She yawned and looked down into the book again.

It was two months ago that the boy had married Sansa. His innocent dove. Littlefinger smiled, he was more satisfied with that kill than with a boar he could have shot. Of course, he hadn't shot the boy – much too obvious and too easy to find. No, he had waited until they had been deep enough in the woods where he had once discovered a little glade at a small stream. The plants there looked beautiful – six feet high, white blossoms and golden stamen. Now the blossoms were gone but oval berries that were as black as the night remained.  
He had shown Robin the place and the dumb boy had walked over to the plants himself and stuffed his little mouth with two handfuls of them. That he then died suffocating, just like Joffrey,was just logical. Of course Petyr had known that the plant was woody nightshade, a highly poisonous plant. However, why should he have told the boy about this danger? Since becoming Lord of the Vale, Robin had grown to be a ruler just as bad as Joffrey once. Very selfish, throwing everyone who said one wrong word out of the moon door. People feared and hated him.  
After checking that the boy's pulse was gone, Petyr mounted his horse again and rode away, leaving the boy and his horse at the glade, he went on hunting now; an alibi was always a good and necessary thing.

Sansa felt strange. She hadn't eaten that much all over the day, but Sansa felt like she could throw it all up. Slowly she stood up and walked up and down the room just to slowly sit down again. Yrienne, her chambermaid looked up from the needlework she had been working on the past hours whilst her lady had been reading.  
"Are you alright, my lady?" a worried expression grew on the blonde-haired woman's soft face.  
"I feel a little sick, to be honest," Sansa answered and Yrienne jumped up, hurrying towards the ravenhaired woman.  
"Shall I call the maister, my lady?" she softly laid her palm on the other woman's head, "you feel a little too warm, too... Are you feeling queasy?"  
Sansa nodded, putting a hand on her stomach, "A little, yes..."  
"My lady ... I don't want to be rude, but... How many moons has it been since ..." Yrienne stopped and looked down in an ashamed expression. Sansa's eyes flickered for a moment. Was Yrienne suggesting that...?  
Yriene looked at the young lady who seemed to be lost in her memories. And who suddenly got pale.  
"Oh!" frightened she threw a look at Yrienne who had sat down next to her on the couch.  
"May the gods watch over you ... two," Yrienne smiled at the surprised other.  
"..Thank you," Sansa hadn't fully recovered from the sudden news yet and felt a bit odd next to her chambermaid who was so cheerful, "don't tell it anyone yet, will you?"  
Yrienne nodded, "Of course not, my lady!"

By the time of late afternoon turning into evening Sansa was sure that something had happened. They never returned that late from their hunting trips and they were not back yet. She had laid the book aside somewhen and walked to the window from which she had a good view over the Vale. What if something happened to him? She thought alarmed, feeling that her hands grew cold just by imagining what wasn't to imagine. At the same time she thought "Shouldn't I care just as much for my husband?" However, she knew that her answer would always be a no, since she just did not like the boy. Hastily she turned around and left the chambers heading to the throne hall to look for some guard she could send out to look for Littlefinger and her husband.

Petyr arrived at the front gate of the castle and the guard's eyes widened when he saw the man returning alone.  
"Where is the young lord of the Vale, if I may ask, my lord?" the guard's voice was cool.  
"Didn't he arrive yet? He wanted a race so badly, so I granted it to him and even gave him some lead," Petyr asked in earnest wonder and the man nodded, a slight grin flashing over his lips.  
"No, he didn't arrive yet; shall I send someone out to look for him?"  
"Of course, for the safety of the young lord!" Petyr insisted.  
Therefore the guard opened the gate and shouted some words to another guard who hurried away.  
Just a couple moments later five men with some hounds left the castle whilst the castle's bells started to ring.

Sansa heard the bells. Loud and alarming hung their sound in the cool air of the castle hallway. In the thrown room stood a guard, he looked satisfied, but his expression grew dark as soon as he saw her.  
"What happened?"  
"..Oh my lady, didn't you hear it yet? Apparently did your husband not come back from the hunt …yet."  
"What?" her voice grew high and she turned away, rushing through the hallways.

Petyr stared out of the window just to see the sun's last rays disappear to leave the sky deep blue and sprinkled with stars. He felt great, the boy was finally gone now and he could follow his further plans. The neighbors in the Vale might become problems, he found, but there would be solutions for them as well. Money pays a man's silence... A grin flashed over his lips.  
Suddenly the door opened, but he stood still, not turning around.  
"Have you done it?" her voice was high pitched and he heard her steps on the wooden floor.  
"Have I done what?" he asked back, voice low and still staring out and into the seemingly endless night. Somewhere a blackbird was singing.  
"You know what," Sansa stood now next to him, looking at him. Petyr turned his head.  
"What would you wish?"  
"Why did you do it?" he saw in her eyes that she knew what he'd done, so it was pointless to deny it – to her at least.  
"Oh c'mon! Don't tell me that you wanted his children!" he sounded angry.  
Sansa swallowed hard and looked down, just to face him again asking, "Where is he?"  
"In the woods, near a small stream. Wild flowers grow there..." Petyr smirked, "A guard sent out some men and hounds though."  
"Will they find him?"  
"I hope so," he turned his head to her and laid his hand under her chin, "If they find him, mouth full of woody nightshade, they believeit was an accident. We're free then, my sweetling!" His grey eyes sparkled and he leaned in closer to press his lips on hers.  
She almost immediately answered his kiss and he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her slender figure.  
Her eyes gloomed with desire when he let go of the kiss, to meet her gaze again.

"We're really free now?" she furrowed her brows, looking at him.  
"Almost, yes. Some little things that I still need to get done," he looked out into the night again.

A nightingale had joined the blackbird in its nightly chant.


End file.
